


foggy flowers

by dorypop



Series: fifteen years later [5]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Child Abuse, Doctor Adam Parrish, Foster Care, Future Fic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, M/M, POV Adam Parrish, POV Ronan Lynch, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorypop/pseuds/dorypop
Summary: Family trip to court for Harvey's hearing—yay!
Relationships: Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish & Original Character(s), Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: fifteen years later [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867762
Comments: 47
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

When he was still living at the trailer, Adam had never been able to stick anything on the fridge’s door.

It wasn’t even a proper fridge—just a small, under the counter thing, whose already minuscule usable capacity was always reduced by half by beer cans on top of more beer cans. The whole kitchen was tiny, so Adam guessed saving up space on the fridge was kinda smart, considering his mom actually _liked_ getting out of the trailer every day to go buy groceries. He suspected his mom would’ve also liked it if Adam had learnt how to take up less space himself.

He actually didn’t know how Ronan’s fridge had been growing up—maybe Aurora made a habit of hanging up her kids’ drawings there? Adam didn’t think Niall Lynch was the type to keep a magnet collection made from souvenirs from his trips around the world, but he’d also never thought to ask.

In any case, their fridge at the Barns now was a new one, because the last one had started having problems doing its job of actually keeping food cold, and Adam had fallen for the possibility of having an icy water dispenser on the door, and it was so _different_ from every other fridge Adam had ever had access to that it hadn’t even felt like much of a whim.

Now, Adam felt a pleasant tingle in his belly every time he drank water and looked at the big, color-coded calendar with everyone’s schedule hanging from the door.

He could tell Harvey liked it too, because every time he wrote the dates for his basketball games he did so with a small smile. His team was doing well in the district’s league—Adam was glad for it not only for Harvey’s sake, but also because it had earned them a nod of approval from Sadie White when she’d heard. Of course, they’d edited the part in which Harvey had lied to them and skipped therapy to be able to play, but it was all playing out mostly good for them.

That was Ronan’s view on it, anyway. Adam was a bit more hesitant to let himself believe it was going to last. Especially considering Adam had personally written _court hearing_ with red sharpie in the following morning’s space in their fridge calendar.

“You don’t have to be so freaked out,” Ronan said, when Adam was lying in bed, eyes open and facing the ceiling. “She didn’t even get fucking visitation rights—nobody likes her anyway.”

Harvey’s mother had actually filed the petition. Adam got cold shivers every time he pictured that woman _legally_ getting five feet near Harvey _once every week_.

“They could still grant her that. Even if they remove her custody rights for good, they could still decide it’s okay to let her see him, if she’s done what they asked her to do.”

Adam heard Ronan shift, but he didn’t turn his head to look at him. He didn’t want to let himself be convinced that this would go smoothly. He _needed_ to be prepared for the worst case scenario.

He also needed to get some sleep, and that was probably what Ronan was after.

He compromised finding Ronan’s hand under the covers and squeezing tightly.

“You’ve written that report as a _medical professional_ , Adam,” Ronan said. “Harvey’s wrist was _broken_. And she did that. The kid needs therapy because she traumatized him so badly he wouldn’t speak!”

“That’s not what these people are going to look at.”

Ronan blinked lazily at him. Adam got out of bed.

“She’s his _mom_ , Ronan. If she gets a job, and goes to parenting classes, and goes to the hairdresser’s before the hearing and cries a bit in front of the judge, they’re gonna see a mother begging to get back _her son_ , and they’re going to look at us and see the people trying to come in between that!”

Adam sat back down on the bed. He missed Ronan’s hand on his, so he sighed and timidly poked on Ronan’s arm with his finger.

Ronan didn’t call him out for his outburst.

He didn’t make him apologize for taking his stress out on him, either, or for being an ungrateful shit when all Ronan was trying to do was help.

He just pulled on Adam’s arm until Adam complied and lied on top of his chest.

“Don’t you ever think it was a terrible mistake to foster Harvey here?” Adam asked, very quietly, because he was voicing something that was only allowed to come out in the darkest of the night.

“What the fuck,” Ronan said, but didn’t push Adam away.

“What if we just gave him hope for nothing?”

Ronan started running his hand through Adam’s hair. It calmed them both, and reassured Adam that even if he somehow failed to keep Harvey he would still have _Ronan_. That thought made him want to cry, though, because who would _Harvey_ had, if it came to that? His _mom_ , who was happy to leave him waiting outside the house while he cried for her to let him in?

“What if we fuck this up?” Adam muttered, and that was the whole truth of it, wasn’t it? He was just afraid of failure, as he always had been.

“ _Then_ we kidnap Harvey and run away.”

Adam levelled himself up on Ronan’s chest to properly squint at him. It didn’t work so well, because the curtains were half closed and the room was quite gloomy, but he could _see_ Ronan’s serious look so he guessed Ronan could see his own incredulous one.

“That’s your plan, genius? They’d search the Barns if we did that, you know?”

“Well, yes, but we’d tell Declan to get rid of anything incriminating, so they wouldn’t be able to find shit. Meanwhile, we’d be miles away already—”

“Yeah, hiding in plain sight in a tourist resort in Bahamas,” Adam deadpanned.

Ronan’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Not a _tourist_ resort, Parrish, have more class than that. A cabin in the mountains, though, _that_ might work.”

“This is the single most—” Adam failed to find the word he was looking form. “The _worst_ idea you’ve ever had, and I’m counting the time you decided it would be fun to get Gansey drunk the night before his wedding.”

Ronan snorted.

“That was totally worth it. I should’ve taken a picture of the maggot’s face and framed it, man. Or, like, have it embroidered or some shit, and _then_ framed. She’d like that better.”

Adam sighed and let himself fall back on top of Ronan.

“He was still drunk in the morning. It _was_ kind of fun,” he admitted, which only was further proof of how tired he really was.

“Yeah, I know. Hey. I should’ve taken a picture of _Gansey’s mother_ to gift Blue.”

Adam groaned to hide his smile.

“ _Ronan_. We’re getting off-topic here.”

“I know. Was trying to distract you. Go to sleep now?”

“I _can’t_. I can’t stop thinking about it. What if she gets him back?”

“We _just_ discussed that, dimwit.”

“You’re super funny today,” Adam said, burying his nose in Ronan’s collarbone. “What if we _lose_ Harvey?”

Ronan’s finger started roaming the skin behind Adam’s hearing ear.

“You do realize that that court hearing is for Harvey’s mom, right? They’re not judging _us_ , or anything.”

Adam shivered.

“It feels like they are,” he whispered, and grabbed a fistful of Ronan’s shirt, so that he felt less like he was falling from a moving helicopter.

Ronan hummed, and kept gently touching him, which probably meant that he was also tired and wanted to get some sleep before they went to court in the morning. Adam _knew_ Ronan was also kind of pissed at the whole thing, and had only adopted the patient role because Adam had claimed the freaking-out one first.

He sort of wanted to apologize for that, and maybe kiss Ronan better so that he got a full night of sleep, but Ronan’s hand suddenly stilled and his breathing got deeper, so Adam forced himself to stay motionless so that he wouldn’t be kicked away from the amazing pillow he’d found for himself.

He dreamt of his own court hearing, back when he’d been a high school student with a magical contract with an ancient forest who didn’t mind lending him a hand to scare his father away.

He awoke with a gasp, scrambling out of bed as quick as he could to avoid disturbing Ronan.

He only remembered he should have worn a hoodie or something when he was already halfway downstairs, goosebumps flowering in his forearms and a vague sense of dread in his stomach when he saw there was light in the kitchen.

He blamed his paranoid, half-asleep brain for the two seconds it took him to remember that, yes, there was a third person living with them that could very well so switch the lights on in the kitchen if he was there in the middle of the night. As opposed to, say, a spirit from Cabeswater manifesting to warn him about impending doom, or any other of the five hundred equally ridiculous ideas that had his heart racing like crazy as he got to the bottom of the stairs and saw that, predictably, it was Harvey sitting on a stool in there.

“Fuck,” Adam muttered, which was not something he liked to say in front of children, but somehow helped him get his breathing under control. “Hey,” he waved, when Harvey realized he wasn’t alone anymore and looked at Adam as if Adam was about to cancel Christmas.

What would Harvey’s mom say if he saw him out of bed like that? Adam had an idea of what his own dad would say—or _his mom_ , and that would probably be _worse_ , because _then_ Adam would be left with that very-familiar anxiety that came when he didn’t know if his mother’s disappointed sigh meant she would be going back to bed to wake her husband and rat Adam out, or just to mull over if it was worth it to remove Adam’s sandwich from his school lunchbox the following day to teach him a lesson.

Harvey didn’t have a Cabeswater to protect him if he went back to live with his mom. He only had Adam and Ronan, and that would have to do.

Adam swallowed.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, padding closer to Harvey. “Is your stomach okay?”

Harvey hummed and slowly relaxed his shoulders, which went back to that slouch that Adam saw caused quite a few back-related problems but that was epidemic to the teenage population.

Harvey looked at the calendar on the fridge.

“Haven’t seen my mom since October,” he finally said.

After a small consultation on the phone with Harvey’s speech therapist, Adam and Ronan had concurred it was best if they didn’t bring his selective mutism up every time Harvey spoke up. It was kind of hard, when Adam was internally cheering for him, but Harvey was slowly becoming more and more vocal in the past weeks—still only at home, but didn’t that mean he felt safe at the Barns?—and they didn’t want to jeopardize that.

Adam gave Harvey a side hug as he passed by his side before he sat in front of him with his glass of water.

“Look,” he began, unnecessarily, because Harvey was already looking. “I’m not gonna try and tell you how you should feel about her. She hurt you, and that’s why _I_ feel the way I feel about her, but this is not about me, nor Ronan, _nor_ your mom. It’s about you, Harvey, and what’s best for _you_. Got that?”

Harvey shrugged, and looked down at the counter, and took a deep breath, and looked up again at Adam as if Adam had the key to solving every single problem in the world.

“I know she’s not—a _good_ mom,” Harvey whispered. Adam wondered if he had been louder when he was younger, and if that had been taken from him. “I’ve known since I was a kid.”

Adam didn’t say he was _still_ a kid, because that wasn’t a thing you told children over ten, and Adam worked with children every day of his life.

“It’s okay if you miss her,” he said, instead, although he didn’t think it was _really_ okay. But Harvey had a right to feel however he wanted to feel, even if what he felt _hurt_ him.

Harvey didn’t say anything for a while—that was also happening a lot lately. Harvey would start talking like he’d never stopped, and suddenly he’d clam up and go back to ASL or writing stuff down.

Adam finished his water.

“Should we go back to sleep?” he asked. Harvey shrugged again.

They were both standing up when a loud thump came from upstairs.

“Stay here for a sec,” Adam told Harvey, already on his way to their room.

The first floor was in complete silence—Harvey’s door open, the master bedroom’s closed. That didn’t mean anything— _Adam_ had closed it himself when he’d left earlier.

A lamp got switched on inside.

Adam opened the door.

Ronan was there. Good. In one piece, at least in appearance. Also good. No monsters in sight, no thorns sticking out from bloody skin, no guns or floods or volcano eruptions or sharp knives. Okay—good.

“Is that a— _lounger_? Like—a _beach_ lounger?” Adam asked, feeling brave as he took two steps into the room to better see the sprawled, wiry thing laying on the floor next to Adam’s side of the bed.

Ronan was breathing a bit too fast for Adam’s liking. Adam gently guided his sitting form until his head was between his knees.

Ronan’s nape was all sweaty.

“No big deal. Had a weird dream—we were in fucking _Bahamas_ —and then—When I woke up, you weren’t there, and that thing was on our bed, and I freaked out for a second.”

Adam sighed and kept rubbing circles on Ronan’s back until his breathing evened.

“Maybe we _should_ plan a vacation on Bahamas, after all.”

“You guys are going to Bahamas?” Harvey asked from the door, startling both Adam and Ronan.

Adam didn’t know how long he’d been there. Rationally, he hadn’t seen anything—he’d been with Adam while Ronan was dreaming.

He wasn’t anymore hurt by the lounger than Adam was.

Adam shook his head while Ronan sat straighter.

“I don’t—think so. We _would_ bring you, too, if we were, though.”

Harvey’s eyes found the beach chair.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ronan said. “I should just leave the tidying up for the morning.” Harvey looked at Ronan, as if he was trying to find the lie. Which was fair, of course. “Shit. Did I wake you up?”

Harvey shook his head and, quietly, came to sit on Ronan’s other side. Immediately, Ronan threw an arm around his shoulders. Harvey took advantage of the way Ronan’s shirt padded his collarbone to rest his head in there. Adam could relate.

“We’ll be there tomorrow, ‘kay, kid? Sitting right there.”

Adam shivered and drowned an incipient sting of jealousy with his search for a hoodie to wear.

“C’mon,” Ronan said, after a minute of silence. “Let’s get you to bed.”

And, just like that, Harvey let himself be led outside the room.

Adam looked at the forgotten beach chair, only to eventually decide it was a problem they could deal with in the morning.

He got inside the bed covers, hoodie and all.

“Harvey’s a bit shaken,” Ronan said, when he came back shortly after. “He let me tuck him in and everything.”

Adam nodded. He hadn’t even thought about that possibility—he didn’t remember ever being tucked in, himself. Was that something twelve-year-olds still needed?

“He’s worried about seeing his mom again,” Adam muttered as Ronan climbed into the bed.

“No shit. It’s gonna be a shitshow tomorrow.”

They slept. Adam’s alarm woke them up. They got dressed and had breakfast and drove to court.

Harvey hadn’t said a word all morning. Adam hugged him tightly before sending him to his seat at the front.

They sat just on time to see Harvey’s mother coming in—Adam recognized her even with the styled hair and the heels, even though he’d never seen her in person before.

She kind of reminded Adam of that version of himself he was embarrassed to think about, back when he’d wear a suit for those parties Gansey invited him to and he’d feel like he was wearing a very obvious disguise, despite Helen Gansey’s smiling compliments. He used to also be _so_ well-mannered when spoken to, like Harvey’s mother now when the judge addresses her.

It made Adam’s stomach clench, and that only made him think of every night Harvey had woken in pain because he had a food intolerance nobody had cared about before.

Adam clutched Ronan’s hand when the judge read Adam’s report, both as a pediatrician and as Harvey’s foster parent.

“Mrs. Parker,” the judge finally said. Adam heard Ronan suck in a breath. “During these months living away from your care, Harvey’s grades have improved. As has his health, as Dr. Parrish’s report has told us— _that_ was a great worry I had. He’s taken up sports, he’s regularly attending therapy, and he’s slowly overcoming his speech difficulties. That is a lot of progress, for which we have to congratulate young Harvey.” The judge paused and took a full minute to break open a bottle of water. Adam found himself wondering if he normally drank a bottle a day, and if he later disposed of the plastic container—were those cases like that for him, too? One abused child after another, hundreds of awful parents looking contrite in front of him as he hydrated. Adam hoped he at least recycled the empty bottles. “Considering that,” the judge continued, bringing Adam back to the present from mental dissertation about the commodification of the foster care system, “and the circumstances in which he was removed from your care, Mrs. Parker, I can _not_ give you back Harvey’s custody.”

Adam inhaled, but his lungs felt mushy and corrupted. The judge capped his water bottle. Adam felt glad that he owned a reusable bottle with a bamboo cap that Blue had gifted him three summers ago.

“However,” the judge said, as Ronan’s leg started bumping into Adam’s, “I am also taking into account your progress during this time. You have improved your home situation, and you have managed to maintain a job, for which I am also congratulating you. For that, I am granting you visitation rights. Seeing as you have successfully completed your domestic violence course, and are regularly attending parenting classes, you may see Harvey one hour a week, under supervision. We’ll revisit this case in two months’ time.”

The judge slammed his gavel down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from a haiku by Akutagawa Ryūnosuke: fire in the distance / uneasiness among the / foggy flowers
> 
> Please bear in mind that I only did a quick Google search on how court hearings and court-mandated visitations work, so of course it might not reflect how these things work in real life.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronan blew into his coffee.

This places’ burgers were shit, and their sandwiches were also shit, and they didn’t even have coffee to go so Ronan and Adam were stuck sitting in those—also shitty—chairs for at least _ten_ more minutes—because they too were shit at serving coffee that wasn’t scalding hot and Ronan would like to keep having taste buds, thank you very much. Really, the _one_ good thing the place had going was that they were actually just opposite Adam’s clinic, so it was somehow convenient.

“You know, I could’ve brought you a pasta salad or whatever,” Ronan said, glaring at Adam’s already empty cup, because for some reason Adam’s tongue—which was otherwise a perfectly great tongue, mind—was incapable of discerning temperature.

Adam rolled his eyes.

“Shut up. I’m not even hungry. Next time you choose the place, and I’m allowed to complain about everything, and we’ll see how that feels.”

Ronan grunted. The problem was really not the food or the coffee, but the shitty judge who had decided it was a _great_ idea to place Harvey in the same room as his abusive mother for a _full_ hour.

Ronan didn’t want to have to do this any other time.

Or, like, _weekly_.

“I fucking hate this.”

Adam placed a hand on Ronan’s fidgety knee.

“White’s foreseeing the whole thing,” he said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too, so it wasn’t very reassuring. “Besides, last week didn’t go so—badly. Harvey was a bit shaken, but that was to be expected.”

Ronan _knew_ Adam was only trying to rationalize this because he needed to. And, yes, Harvey didn’t come back from his first visitation with broken bones or bruises all over his face or anything like that, which was objectively a good thing. But that didn’t mean seeing his mother was good for him.

He’d eaten very little that night, and had just clung to Ronan when he went to his room to wish him a good night. And Ronan had to sit there and bite his tongue, because he couldn’t promise Harvey that everything was going to be okay, and he couldn’t call Adam to fix it either because, one, there was nothing Adam could actually do, and two, Adam kept having these nightmares that woke him in the middle of the night that Ronan suspected had everything to do with the whole thing.

And this was only the second visitation.

“The fuck you’re talking about.” Ronan jerked his leg away from Adam. “A bit shaken? Poor kid was shitting his pants.”

Adam narrowed his eyes.

“Well, yes, but he’ll need you to be calm and _not_ freaked-out when he comes back, so you can already start wiping that look out of your face.”

“This is my calm face, Parrish.”

Adam wasn’t impressed. He just raised his eyebrows and didn’t have to say anything for Ronan to wish he could take back every single shitty thing he’d said to Adam over the years. Adam was trying to be mature about this, so why couldn’t Ronan do the same thing?

Ducking his head, Ronan blew again at his coffee.

Adam’s phone started ringing.

Ronan’s sleeve suffered a second-degree burn.

“Fuck!”

“It’s the clinic,” Adam said. That could mean fuckton of things. Maybe there was an emergency and they needed Adam. Understandable, as Adam was damn good at fixing problems. Maybe that fucker receptionist was bored and she felt like bothering Adam during his lunch break.

Adam’s face darkened as he listened to the phone.

Ronan’s stomach clenched.

“What?”

“We’ll be right there,” Adam said, and hung up.

“What is it, Parrish?”

“Let’s go.” Adam took Ronan’s _still scalding-hot_ coffee from Ronan’s hands and drank it all in one gulp. “Harvey’s at the clinic.”

It was too early. The hour wasn’t up yet, and then that tight-ass social worker had to bring him all the way across town.

Ronan followed Adam with both their coats under his arm.

The first person Ronan saw when they entered the clinic was Wintry White. She stood up from a plastic chair by the receptionist desk.

“Harvey!” Adam cried. Harvey looked up from another chair, and blinked with glassy eyes as Adam kneeled in front of him.

Ronan hovered close by, vaguely aware of Liz’s relieved banter and the piercing stare of Sadie White. Adam was inspecting Harvey while gently caressing his cheek.

That was good, Ronan thought. Adam would know what to do. He was the one most prepared for the job of comforting Harvey, and maybe he’d also be up for yelling at Mrs. White later. Not that he knew what they had to yell at her for, but Adam would figure that out too. So, no problem.

Ronan was starting to get dizzy, so he sat down on the chair next to Harvey.

“Are you hurt somewhere? Are you in pain?” Adam whispered, when Harvey’s eyes let go of two big, fat tears that felt like two stab wounds on Ronan’s stomach.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, but of course nobody listened to him, because Harvey signed something, and Adam gasped, and then he turned a betrayed look onto the social worker that would have had Ronan squirming to get to safety had it been directed to him.

“How did Harvey get his wrist hurt, Mrs. White?” Adam’s voice was all collected and icy, as his hands steadily rolled Harvey’s sleeve up to better see the faint bruise already taking hold of his skin.

Ronan clenched his jaw.

“Dr. Parrish, I am deeply sorry for—”

“Weren’t you supposed to be there, Mrs. White?” Ronan interrupted her, standing up to better get into her personal space.

“I _was_ there, Mr. Lynch.”

“So you just let his mother hurt him again, or what?”

“Ronan,” Adam called, still looking at Harvey’s wrist. “Liz, we’ll need an x-ray. If we’re lucky this time it won’t be broken.” That last part was directed at Harvey, who nodded and pursed his lips.

“On it,” Liz said. Harvey’s eyes followed her as she ran to the phone.

All this shit had already happened, back on the first day Harvey came to Adam. It made Ronan want to set Harvey’s mother’s car on fire, and then her house, and then whatever she cared about, which was _clearly not_ Harvey.

“Hey,” Ronan said, sitting back on the plastic chair. He took Harvey’s uninjured hand and started rubbing his knuckles, slowly, hoping it helped soothe him. “As soon as this fussy doctor you got yourself gives us the heads-up, we’ll go home, okay? And we can sit by the fire and not move for the rest of the evening. We can play a video game, or watch a movie or something. Or we can go hang out with the cows. Whatever you feel like. Sounds good?”

Harvey shrugged, which considering everything was as good as a smile in Ronan’s book.

“If that means you’re leaving me in charge of cooking dinner tonight, you probably shouldn’t risk it by calling me _fussy_.”

Ronan’s other hand softly guided Harvey’s head until it was resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah, it probably means we’ll starve tonight,” he said by Harvey’s ear, and smiled at Adam as he felt Harvey relax against him. “He’ll probably manage to fuck up even something as simple as, I don’t know, boiled eggs.”

“I _can_ boil eggs,” Adam assured Sadie White, as if the lady cared, or Adam cared that she cared.

Liz announced that the x-ray room was ready for Harvey. The guy manning the x-rays actually came to say hello and shake Adam’s hand, as if he didn’t see him everyday. Ronan got it, because he’d also try to find every possible excuse to touch Adam’s hand if he didn’t have the option to _just ask_ every time he felt like it. Didn’t mean he liked it, though, so he directed a slight glare in the guy’s direction.

“I’ll just need Harvey for a minute, and then we’re all done,” he said, with a bright smile that made Ronan want to hold tighter onto Harvey.

“Can we go home after?” Ronan asked before letting him go.

“As soon as Dr. Parrish gives the okay, you may take him home with you,” Mrs. White promised, which helped a little.

Adam followed the x-ray guy so Ronan figured he was also allowed to do the same. Nobody tried to stop him, anyway, until they reached a door with warning signs for radiation exposure.

Harvey was ushered inside. Ronan wished he could also follow him there—what was a little radiation, anyway? A small price to pay if it meant he never had to lose sight of Harvey ever again.

“So what did she do?” Adam asked, as soon as Harvey was out of hearing’s range.

Ronan crossed his arms, because they felt wobbly without a trembling kid to press against his side.

“I’m not—entirely sure what prompted it. She was asking Harvey about school, Harvey was typing his answers on his phone. They had ordered some sodas, everything was in order. I only stood up from the table to take a phone call, but I never left the diner. And, suddenly, when I turn back, Mrs. Parker is throwing Harvey against the table and yelling at him to speak up—” She took a deep breath, as if it was difficult for her to speak. Ronan thought it should be difficult, because Harvey was presently getting radiation directed at his wrist because the lady couldn’t wait to talk on the phone. “I have already contacted the judge on the case. Mrs. Parker’s parental rights have been terminated,” she stated after a short pause.

Ronan looked at her, not sure he followed.

Adam wasn’t much help—he just nodded and went back to look at the door, as if by staring with enough force he’d somehow develop the ability to see inside.

“No more visitations?” Ronan asked, to double check.

“No more visitations,” she confirmed.

“We’ll see you at the next home visit, then?” Adam asked, but it wasn’t really a question.

Ronan glared at her, but she was never one to care much about that. After a few moments, though, she nodded.

“I’ll call in advance,” she said, and turned around. Her footsteps resounded on the otherwise empty corridor, echoing Ronan’s heartbeat by his ears.

Ronan waited until she’d turned the corner to kick the chair closest to him.

He kicked it _twice_ , for good measure, before sitting down on it.

“He doesn’t have to go near her ever again,” he muttered. Adam didn’t seem to have heard him—he was still staring at the closed door. Ronan wasn’t sure he was even blinking. “Hey,” he called. “Parrish. Adam.” Ronan reached for Adam’s arm and pulled at his scrubs’ sleeve until Adam’s eyes finally turned onto him. “We’re bringing him home.”

“Yes.”

“You think you can get away with coming home early with us? I can drive you tomorrow morning.”

Adam’s eyes flicked to the door, and then to the end of the corridor where Liz’s desk was, before settling back on Ronan.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll tell Liz to tell Rose.”

Adam sighed and leaned in for a kiss, his sleeve still dangling from Ronan’s hand.

It made Ronan feel better for maybe a second, but as soon as their mouths separated he started feeling helpless again.

Harvey was still not safe, despite what the social worker had said. They were only _fostering_ him—that meant any moment _something_ could happen and he’d be taken from them. Just like that. The judge had already done it, for the two hours he’d been sent to his mother. Nobody had even _asked_ Harvey if he even wanted to see her.

For all they knew, next time Wintry White came by their house she might find something she didn’t like, like a dreamt beach chair or fishy, sleeping cattle or Harvey lying to them about his basketball team and _she_ could send him away.

What would they do, then?

Close Harvey’s bedroom door forever and forget a child had ever been living in there?

“Have you ever thought about—” Ronan began, but was interrupted by the opening door.

“Adam, you’ll look at this real quick?” X-ray guy’s voice came from the inside just as Harvey emerged, looking dazed and holding his wrist with his good arm.

Ronan nodded at Adam’s worried look.

“You cold?” he asked Harvey, and didn’t wait for an answer to cover Harvey’s shoulders with his own coat, that of course fell limp and too big on him. Mindful of his wrist, Ronan engulfed him in a hug. “I’m sorry the world’s such a shitty place,” he whispered by Harvey’s ear, as if by covering him with his arms he could shield him from every bad thing out there.

Ronan heard Harvey take a shaky breath.

“My mom said I was faking,” Harvey muttered in what Ronan first thought was a sob. “That I was making her life hell?”

Adam would have probably told Harvey something clever and helpful that validated the kid’s probably-confused feelings towards his mom and didn’t cause him any more permanent trauma. But Adam was otherwise occupied looking at a smoky picture of Harvey’s bone, because some selfish bitch couldn’t be bothered to care for her twelve-year-old son.

“She’s the one who made your life hell. She’s a fucking bad person who shouldn’t be allowed around children. You didn’t make anything up, Harvey. It’s real, okay? It’s all real.” Although Ronan wished it wasn’t.

Harvey sniffled, and didn’t say anything else.

They stood like that, unmoving in the empty corridor, waiting for Adam to come back with the verdict.

“Good news,” Adam announced. “Not broken, just sprained. So we’ll just bandage it for a few days and you’ll probably be able to go to basketball practice by next week. How’s that?”

That was pretty great, but Harvey was still shivering, so Adam led them to his examination room to put the bandage on and write a painkiller prescription. Liz blew them a kiss when they passed by her on their way to the car.

The first thing Ronan did when they got home was light up the fire, as Adam settled Harvey on the couch.

“Should we send him off to school tomorrow?” Ronan asked Adam, as he came through the kitchen to grab some clean blankets from the laundry room.

“As long as he sleeps well, it might help him—having his routine. What are you making?”

“Sandwiches. Listen, can we talk?”

Adam hummed as he came back carrying the fluffiest blanket they owned. “About?”

If Ronan strained his neck, he could see Harvey’s hair popping over the back of the couch, where they’d left him choosing a movie to watch.

“How do we make sure nothing like this happens ever again?” he asked, in a low voice.

Adam frowned.

“We’re not kidnapping Harvey.”

“Fuck. Shut up. I’m trying to be serious. Like—What would we have to do? To—You know. Stop people from hurting him.”

“I don’t think we can do that, Ronan.”

Sure. Life sucked. Ronan could dream whatever shit into existence, but he couldn’t protect the people he loved.

What a fucking lovely day they were having.

He went back to slicing boiled eggs for the sandwiches.

“But maybe—We could consider—” Adam didn’t sound like he usually did when he was sure of stuff, but Ronan couldn’t care less.

“Yes?”

“I mean, we could file for adoption.”

Ronan nodded, maybe too eagerly. He let go of the knife he was still holding to take one of Adam’s hand in his.

“Would Harvey want that?” he asked. Adam brought Ronan’s hand to his mouth and gently kissed his knuckles. When he let go, he took advantage of Ronan’s distracted mind to steal one of the already assembled sandwiches.

“Let’s not ask him tonight, okay?” he said, and left with the blanket and the sandwich.

Ronan furiously wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and waited until his breathing was calm again to go back to his egg slicing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it (for now!) I can't even begin to express how grateful I am for all the love this series is getting. Thank you so much for every single kudo, comment or [tumblr ask](https://hklnvgl.tumblr.com/) 💛


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